Emerald Eyes: A Flower Girl's Tale
by Bleeding Heartgrenade
Summary: The Story of Final Fantasy VII, as seen through Aeris' eyes. Also, we see some of the relationship with Zack that FFVII never showed us. Chapter Three uploaded. Please read and review.
1. Chapter One

Chapter One

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Hello. My name is Aeris Gainsborough. I am, or rather, I was the last surviving Cetra. I have returned to the Planet. When I was alive, I knew so little of my ancestors and my destiny. I only knew what my mother had told me. She told me that she and I were Ancients; the protectors of the Planet. She told me that we that lived in a place called Icicle Inn, on the North Continent. She told me that my father had been a kind gentle man who worked researching the Ancients and was killed by a greedy colleague called Hojo.

Hojo.

I still remember when I was young, lying in a cage, alone, watching that monster leer at me as he prowled his laboratory. Me and my mother were imprisoned in the lab for 'experiments', because we were Cetra. Hojo was always there, staring at us. If there is anyone I truly loathed on the Planet, it was him. But he is dead too, and there is no reason to hate him. Mother died too, when we escaped from the Laboratory in Midgar that we were trapped in. The tests had weakened her greatly, and she collapsed in a Slum station. Then I went and lived with Mom; my foster mother Elmyra, who took me to her home after my Mother died. I spent most of my life in the city of Midgar, selling flowers I picked in the church, and walking the dark alleyways of the Upper World, where the voice of the Planet rarely reached my ears and the pollution was so thick, it choked the stars themselves.

Looking back on my life, I don't think I would have ever left that hellhole, or ever been able to see the sacred city of the Ancients, nor would I have been able to help save the Planet, and I wouldn't have been able to make so many friends, if not for one man … one man, who helped me find my destiny, live my life and die. But not in vain.

This is my story, the story of my life. So sit down, and listen to a great tale, of strength, courage, love, hate and sorrow, told by this simple flower girl.

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	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

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Authors notes: Words like _'this' _are thoughts. I'm trying to stay as true to the game as possible, but I'll add names and descriptions that the game doesn't give. I hope all you readers enjoy this story. Also what happens in this story also depends on what happens when I play the game.

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Stars. They shined weakly above my head as I gazed intently up at them, strolling casually down the alleyway in Sector 1, Midgar city. I had lived there as long as I could remember. The smog which floated over the city darkened the sky and the stars became mere specks in the heavens. I squinted up at them. I often wondered whether, far away on distant planets, there were people who protected their homes and guarded the spirit of their planets, with the promise of a place to rest and to be happy. I wondered whether any of the defenders had died out, and there was only one lonely guardian left. I wondered if there was anyone as alone as me. But, in truth, I was not alone. I always had people with me, I heard them talking to me, especially late at night. My mother was always there; her voice spoke to me, speaking softly in my ear.

Suddenly, a bright green star flared to life out of the darkness. I started, and stepped backwards. The star floated down and I held out of my hand. It rested there and I realised it wasn't a star; it was a sphere of Mako. I knew this, because I could hear it whispering softly. Lots of Mako particles were floating out of a sewer grate in the bottom of the alley wall, all whispering so that their voices became a sweet rustling sound, like autumn leaves tumbling along a pathway. I knelt down and gazed into the green light.

The Mako was known by another name; Lifestream, the blood of the Planet. This 'blood' was being sucked up by Shinra Inc., the company that built and controlled Midgar. I could hear the deep, rumbling roar of Mako Reactor Number 1 towering above me as it devoured the Lifestream. The bright green lights floated serenely around me, as if they sensed my sympathy, and were glad of it. I stood up, and put my hands together, and gave a quick prayer for the Planet. It wasn't really a religious prayer. I just … wanted the planet to be happy, and not suffer. The lights rose up into the air and drifted away. I turned and paced down the alley, my footsteps echoing.

I walked out into the main road, with my basket of flowers on my arm, as a motorbike rattled past. I stood between Goblins Bar and the Camons Cinema, where the iron grates covered the windows and the large notice board over the doorway still proclaimed that the movie _LOVELESS_ was showing there, even though the cinema had been closed for over a year. Though it was 2 O'clock in the morning, the street, and the Sector 1 Square beyond the Clock Archway was full of people. I knew these places very well, for I had trodden the Upper Plate many times before, trying to sell my flowers to those who were rich enough to live on top of the plate. As I prepared to spend the rest of the morning in useless attempts of getting people to part with their money, I heard the Midgar Electric Train screech into the Mako Reactor Number 1 station.

I walked under the Archway into the Square and stood patiently by the dried up fountain in the plaza, waiting for a likely looking customer to pass me by. People were talking, laughing and hurrying to their various destinations. A couple of soldiers were drinking beer by a lamppost, their rifles slung over their shoulders. Mako Reactor workers were hurrying backwards and forwards. Not a remotely good customer. I was standing by the fountain for some time, so I let my eyes wander, tapped the black and white marble floor with my brown leather boots, studied stonework of the Clock Archway and read the old billboard sign over the house at the end of the Square. Somebody had scrawled a message on it in large, red, disjointed letters;

_** Don't be fooled by Shinra!**_

_** Mako energy doesn't last forever!**_

_** Mako energy is the planet's lifesource!**_

_** The end is in sight**_

_**Protectors of the planet: AVALANCHE**_

I wondered what it was like to directly oppose Shinra. I had heard about AVALANCHE, there were always Shrina Executives on the trains that were complaining about this new terrorist group and looking nervous. Apparently, this group called AVALANCHE had threatened to bomb the Mako Reactors if they weren't shut down. I remembered when the whole of Sector 5 had crowded into Mark's house, because he had the biggest TV, to watch a special report on the terrorists. Even the man who was ill, and normally lived in a pipe in Sector 5 sat in a corner, moaning slightly. The news report was basically Shinra telling people that AVALANCHE were trying to see that innocent people got hurt and that Shinra would look after the people of Midgar.

'_Yeah. Right. As if Shinra ever cared about anyone.'_

Shinra, Inc. was after me, too. Not that I'd ever done anything wrong. They wanted me because I was the last guardian; all the other defenders had died out. I was the sole survivor of the Cetra. And yet, I didn't even know what that meant. I didn't know anything. But Shinra kept sending soldiers and men after me. Luckily, not all the ordinary soldiers knew about me, so I could walk the streets without any trouble. And if I did have trouble, I had a staff called the Guard Stick. It slid down inside itself so it became a small cylinder, only fifteen centimetres long, so I could put it in my basket and carry it around with me, without causing suspicion. There was a button on it, that when pushed, extended it to two metres long. I had stopped the Shinra capturing me many times with it, but I had no materia to protect myself with. Except…

Absentmindedly, I reached up, and touched the pale, hard sphere that rested reassuringly in the ribbon that tied my long brown hair back in the plait. It had belonged to my mother. I could never get the materia to do anything, but I felt happy with the heirloom in my possession. It felt as though it was watching over me, guiding me.

I shook my head. I had been in the Square for half an hour and not even attempted to sell a flower. I concentrated on getting a customer. A young couple were walking arm in arm towards the Clock Archway, smiling and laughing. They might be possible customers. I walked slowly and purposefully to intercept them. They looked up as I stopped, and stood in front of them.

"Would you like to buy a pretty flower? Only one gil each!" I said in my brightest, most cheerful voice, beaming so much, I thought my face might split in half. The young man frowned, and the woman clung on his arm, as though she thought I might launch myself at her, and attack her. The man glared at the flowers, then at me.

"'Ere, what you selling?" the guy demanded, fixing me with a scrutinizing look, "Everyone knows you can't grow flowers in Midgar." He spoke with the kind of indignance that people possess when it is suggested that they can't punch their way out of a wet paper bag, as though by selling flowers, I was being cheeky or rude.

"They're not fakes." I said, reaching down into my wicker basket, picking out a white lily and holding it up to the artificial light of the Square. "They're real."

The man snorted, and muttered, "Yeah, right." The woman tugged on his arm, grinning nastily at me, and he nodded to her. The young man turned back to me and snatched the lily from my fingers.

"Don't you shove phony flowers at us again, you dirty slum girl." He sneered, his eyes raking over my dusty pink dress, and crushed the lily in his fist into pieces. He opened his hand, and the soft, delicate, torn-up petals floated to the ground. The young couple laughed derisively as I knelt down and picked up the pieces of the squashed flower. I had worked so hard, looking after the flowers I grew. And they had been broken so fast. The man stamped on my fingers as I tried to pick the split and splintered leaves up. The young lady screeched with laughter. Then, the young man put his arm around the woman's shoulder, and they started to walk away, still laughing. I felt hot tears spring into my eyes. I stood up and marched over to the couple, the basket of flowers swinging violently on my arm. I tapped the man on the shoulder. He turned around to face me, the mirth still on his face.

"Bully." I said, and kicked him hard in the groin.

The man fell onto the marble floor, doubled over, whimpering in pain and I kicked him again and again and the man's girlfriend starting screaming something about crazy slum girl and people in the Square were staring and tears were welling in my eyes and none of it mattered because I was so sick of everything. Then a fist collided with my stomach and I was sent sprawling, the wind knocked out of me.

The soldiers who had been drinking beer in the Square had come over. One of them had punched me to stop me kicking the hateful man. The young woman was babbling about unprovoked attacks to the soldiers, and the man was shouting to the soldiers to arrest me. I turned and ran out of the Square, passed staring, accusing eyes. I fled down the alleyway that I had come down earlier. Why had I acted like that? The Upper World was full of nasty people, I knew that. I didn't have to lose my temper. It was just … lilies used to be my mother's favourite flower. I wiped my streaming eyes with the back of my hand, which was still sore. I was twenty-two years old, for Planet's sake. I shouldn't be acting like a child. I would need to find a different place to sell my flowers now. I entered a deserted road and stopped to catch my breath.

"There she is!"

I turned and felt a hard blow to my cheek. I was knocked backwards against a wall. My basket of flowers was sent flying across the path and rolled into the gutter. Three soldiers came out of the alleyway, followed by the young couple, who were smirking. I was panicking; the Guard Stick that I needed to defend myself with was out of my reach. The soldiers stepped forward.

"Come with us, and you won't get hurt." One of them said, but the other soldiers grinned, smug looks on their faces, swinging their rifles on their arms.

"Yeah, sure." I said sarcastically, feeling a bruise grow on my right cheek. The soldiers leers vanished, and they advanced on me, closing in from all directions. I backed up so I was fully against the wall, and silently cursed myself for being so careless. I prayed for a diversion, something that would let me escape, even just a dog barking, something that would distract them from me and let me get my Guard Stick or run back home to mom.

And my prayers were answered in a way I could never have imagined.

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	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

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Authors notes: Words like _'this' _are thoughts. I hope this story is interesting; I'm not very good at stories generally. Keep the reviews coming please!

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Mako Reactor No. 1 exploded. Fire shot upwards and outwards, engulfing the blackness, blasting forth a jagged sphere of blazing light, and a shockwave ripped through the streets, overturned parked cars and shattered windows. Glass shards showered the cobbled road, and bits of metal rained down from the sky. There was a crack of an electric whip cutting into the flesh of the Sector 1 mainframe, a howl of wounded machinery, and every single light shining in Sector 1 went out. There was total darkness. 

Then there was silence, except for the whining of distant car alarms. A silence so deep and dark, so devoid of human voices, that it seemed every person in the Sector was holding their breath, wondering what had happened. The young woman, who had been clutching her boyfriend's arm tightly when the explosion happened, let out a piercing scream. As though this was some kind of horrible signal, the whole of the Sector began to scream and cry out into the night, the stars trembling with their fear. Then, the young lady ran away down the street, the man following in her wake, calling after her.

The soldiers down the street ran after them, who of them shouting into a walkie-talkie, shouting for back up, shouting, asking 'What happened? What's happening?' over and over. I stood up shakily, letting my quivering limbs push me up. The inferno still roared out of the top of the Mako Reactor. I walked over to my flower basket, still lying in the gutter, and stooped to pick it up. Examining the flowers in the dark of the street, it seemed that they were ok. I took my Guard Stick from out of the basket, and inspected it. It was intact, and undamaged. I breathed a sigh of relief. This weapon had been the only form of protection I'd had for years.

I put the Guard Stick back inside the woven basket, and looked up and down the street. Cars lay twisted on the curb, and flames licked up the walls of buildings. Through the darkness, I could hear people calling to each other down the street. Tucking the basket under my arm, I slipped into the alleyway across the road. As I did, the lights in the Sector flickered back on, but only dimly. I walked into the main street, where the weak light illuminated a car lay up-side down on the steps of the Camons cinema, and fragments of smouldering metal lay on the stone floor. The advertisement for _LOVELESS_ hung dejectedly above the wreckage on the pavement, flapping sadly in the smoky breeze. Mako Reactor workers were running everywhere in their orange caps and bright red shirts. One of them dashed past me, and shoved me out of the way. I toppled, yelped, and fell hard on the floor.

"Ow!"

I sat there on the hard ground, feeling rather sorry for myself, and wondered whether the night could get any worse. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw another young man stroll into the main street from the direction of the Mako Reactor. He wore a purple outfit with leather boot and gloves. Something about him and his clothes felt strangely familiar. I shook off the feeling and stood up.

'_He might know something about this explosion.'_ I thought and brushed the dust off my dress. _'Who knows, he might even be a member of AVALANCHE.'_

I felt strangely giggly about the fact that he could be from AVALANCHE. Meeting a resistance group sounded oddly amazing. Not to mention exciting. Nevertheless, I walked over to him as he strode down the street towards the Clock Archway, took a deep breath, and said,

"Excuse me."

The man turned, and faced me. He had deep blue eyes that glowed in the darkness, and his hair was set in sharp, long, blonde spikes that swept over his head. He looked as though he was about my age, maybe a little younger. Every feature of his face was defined: His pointed nose, his curved eyebrows, and his smooth jaw line.

"What happened?" I enquired, trying hard not to stare at his face too much. The man shook his head, the spikes whipping through the air, standing rigidly on his head.

"Nothing…" He said untruthfully and then hesitated, as though reconsidering. "Hey, listen…" He looked down at the basket of flowers on my arm, an interested look on his face. He opened his mouth, paused, and then said slowly,

"…Don't see many flowers around here."

"Oh, these?" I asked, shaking my arm slightly, so that the flower basket jumped around on my arm. I felt a surge of happiness. No one had ever noticed my flowers on their own. Not for a long time.

"Do you like them?" I persisted, looking into his azure eyes. "They're only a gil…"

The man dug into his pockets, and pulled out string, bits of fluff and several gold coins. He picked up a coin, shoving the rest into his pockets, and placed it into my outstretched palm. The dark leather of his gloves brushed my skin, and sent shivers down my spine. I jerked back to reality, as I realised someone was actually buying a flower from me.

"Oh, thank you!" I cried, slipping the coin into the pocket on my scarlet mini jacket. I searched around in my flower basket to find a flower that hadn't been smashed or stood on. My fingers closed around a pink gladiola, a very special flower that I grew back home in a beaker.

"Here you are!" I beamed at him and held out the flower. He took it, and I walked around him and under the Clock Archway. I needed to go home. Mom was probably worried about me. She worried a lot. I walked past the dried up fountain and through the Square towards the railway lines. I glanced back over my shoulder as I turned into the streets. I could see the man still standing by the cinema, and when I saw him, I let out a gasp. He was sliding the flower into his belt, his back turned to me, and on his back there was a huge sword, strapped in a battered leather sheath. The two materia slots in the metal glistened with green orbs. I knew that sword. Then, I had turned the corner, and the man and his sword were gone.

Soldiers were running everywhere. I walked through the cobbled streets and glided through the uniformed men, entering the Sector 1 station. The train was already in the station, and was about to slide out of it! I yanked a door open, and leapt inside. As I shut the door behind me, the train's wheels groaned and, sluggishly, the train crawled out of the station. I walked down the aisle of the carriage and sat down on the blue leather seat, put down my creel of flowers and gripped the metal pole next to me that went from ceiling to floor. The train picked up speed. I clung to the pole as the train descended into dark tunnels to circle the main support of the Midgar plate. As it did, I thought I heard a thud on the train roof, but I probably imagined it. The Shinra Electric train was making its final stops at each of the slum stations.

I looked around the train car and noticed that there was only one other occupant; a man sleeping on a seat at the back of the carriage. He was always there; the train was his home. A plastic box was fixed in the wall next to me, and newspapers and magazines were stuffed into it. I let go of the metal post and slid my hand into the box's opening, drawing out a violently orange journal, which was titled _Ultimate Limit! _As I began to open the magazine up, a mechanical voice cut tonelessly through the empty air of the train, the grimy speakers reverberating near the ceiling, spewing dust into the stuffy air of the train.

"Last train out of Sector 1 station. Next stop, Sector 3, lower plate, station. Expected time of arrival is 12:01 AM, Midgar Standard Time…" The voice droned on, and I tuned it out of my hearing. The time was 11:56, according to the digital clock set in the train wall opposite me. So the Clock Archway had the wrong time on it. Showed how good Shinra were at keeping things in order. I looked down at the magazine in my hands. I flipped it open, and read;

**'Limit Breaks. Supreme Attacks. Cosmetic Powers. These powers that even scientists have a hard time explaining. We have all heard about them, these wondrous abilities that people display when they have been injured or angry or worried or sick. And everyone is capable of producing Limit Breaks, but only if they find their 'true' guard – the weapon with which they were made to fight with. Only with that weapon can they develop and build their skills.'**

I stopped reading as the train screeched to a halt at the Sector 3 station. I could hear people in other carriages exiting the train, talking, their feet stamping the ground. Then the train was off again, the doors being slammed shut, the wheels screeching painfully, and the speaker choked with dust as it announced that they were headed to the Sector 4 station. I turned back to the magazine. I was interested in Limit Breaks. I had only ever done a Limit Break once, a long time ago, when Mom had slipped and fallen down the stairs. I had come inside from the garden, where I had been practicing using my Guard Stick, and seen her lying there. I had over and tried to wake her, but I couldn't. She was unconcious, one of her legs was at an odd angle and I was still holding my weapon. I was panicking and crying hysterically when suddenly, a blue sphere of light had grown at my fingertips. I had been surprised and puzzled, but somehow, I knew it was OK. From the sphere came smaller blue lights, which had covered me and Mom. I felt a soft wind blowing in my face, and my tears dried up, and I felt calmer. Then the blue sphere vanished, and all was silent. Then Mom groaned softly, and sat up. I remember jumping at her, hugging her, so glad she was safe. Using my 'Limit Break', I had healed my Mom, and myself.

I was thrown to the floor for at least the fourth time that night as the train stopped abruptly at the Sector 4 station, and the slow, robotic voice stated dully, "Sector 4 station, arrival time 12:07." Sounds of people exiting the train reached my ears.

I got up, nursing my sore arse, and sat down heavily, rubbing my tired eyes. The train gave another almighty wail and moaned its way out of the station.

"Last train out of Sector 4 station. Next stop, Sector 5, lower plate, station. Expected time of arrival is 12:12 AM, Midgar Standard Time…" Echoed monotonously through the train.

I turned back to the glossy magazine. It there was an article in there about Ultimate Limit Breaks. I turned to the right page, and read. I was intrigued by the concept of Ultimate Limits. They were not something that was developed or grew inside you went you used your weapon. They were something that was _found_. There was a story in the magazine about someone who had found their Ultimate Limit in an empty soup can. I flicked through the pages absentmindedly, thinking about how Shinra gave everyone who was in their regular army, regular rifles. It was whispered that Shinra feared those who could use Limits. That's why they didn't allow their soldiers to find their 'true' weapon. Except, of course, Them. They were allowed to choose the weapon They fought with.

'_SOLDIER…'_

I remember the time a few years ago when I saw one of those chosen weapons, the weapon I had seen earlier tonight on the back of that strange man; the Buster Sword.

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Flashback

"_Yeah, cool isn't it? Wanna…touch it?"_

"_Oh, come on! It's so cool, try it!"_

"_Told ya!"_

End flashback

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"Sector 5 station." Whined the loudspeaker in a suffering voice. "Midgar Standard Time, 12:13 AM."

I stood up, slipping the magazine back in it's box, picking up my basket of flowers and walking to the door of the compartment, gripping a support pole as the train shuddered to a stop at the station. The door slid open and I hopped out, onto the concrete station. I walked along the station, past the train's compartments and past the cargo carriages. I walked into the main area of Sector 5, where badly built houses stood haphazardly and a burnt and broken coach stood by the heap of carnage that had once been a village. After all, Midgar had once been a village built in a hollow of the earth. Then it became a city. Then Shinra was founded and said that the city wasn't good enough. So they built another city over it. I raised my eyes to the ceiling, where the upper plate loomed, a swarm of wires and girders hanging like tentacles from its massive hulking form.

I walked through the Sector, smiling and waving at the people who were there. They waved back, smiles in their tired eyes. The slums, however miserable, had a sense of community, of friendship. People were always ready to help others, always already to rebuild a roof or collect scrap metal for a neighbour.

I passed the old van, and strode down a narrow path, littered by sheets of metal. I turned a corner, and my house came into view. It was the last remnant of the old village, a grey-bricked, red-roofed house, with a large garden, blossoming with yellow daffodils. I was lucky to live in such a lovely house during my childhood. We often invited people around to our house when they had nowhere to stay. A waterfall gushed behind our house, and a pipe extended into the lake it formed. Through the lake, Sector 5 was able to have clean water.

I pushed open the oak doors, and stepped into the cool, clean, dark kitchen. It was empty; Mom was probably in bed. I took off my red mini-jacket and hung it on a peg by a window. The flowers in the vases along the walls swayed in the breeze coming from the entrance. I shut the doors, stepped out of my leather boots, and proceeded upstairs, opening my bedroom door, closing it after me softly. The lights were off, so I flicked my bedside lamp on, illuminating the gladiolas in the turquoise beaker on my chest of drawers. Mom had left a cup of water by my bed.

There was no running water in the slums, so I put my basket of flowers down and opened my chest of drawers, grasping my toothbrush, toothpaste and cup. I squeezed a small glob of toothpaste onto my toothbrush, and began brushing my teeth. When I had brushed them sufficiently, I spat into the empty cup, and hastily swallowed the water in the cup that had been left out for me. I put the two cups out to one side, to be washed in the morning,and stood up, walking over to my chest. As I slid open the compartment, and set the toothbrush and toothpaste down inside it, my finger brushed a rectangular something wrapped in pink tissue paper. Smiling slightly, I carefully picked the swathed item up, closing the drawer firmly behind me as I sat down on my bed. Propped up against the pillows, I slowly unravelled the tissue paper, folding it carefully and gathering it into my hands. When it was all removed, I placed it carefully on my bedside, and looked back at the thing in my hands.

It was a framed photograph. The border was delicately designed; a tall flower and a large dragon carved into the mahogany structure, and the leather backing smoothly caressed the wood, without overlapping the design. In the dragon's eyes and the flower's centre, a diamond glistened. Behind the glass front of the frame was a colourful photograph, taken by Mom aboutfive years ago. I am there, in the photo, smiling happily, my arm wound him.

Him.

Tall, muscular, attractive. Tall spiky hair, like that guy at the Clock Archway, but black, pitch black. Wore the same clothes too, the purple SOLDIER uniform with the shoulder armour and brown leather boots, and he's wearing it now. Had that massive sword, doesn't have it in this picture, because he's off-duty. He's wearing that cheesy grin that he always had, his arm around my shoulders, beaming at the camera. We look so perfect together. I've got half a blush on my cheeks, he probably had said something dirty to me, he was such a flirt.

Zack.

I met him seven years ago, on a dreary night when the rain was falling onto the streets of Sector 4. I was standing in the shadow of the Shinra HQ, trying desperately to sell my flowers, when a truck came rumbling down the road towards me, heading for the Shinra Headquarters. I still remember it, so clearly.

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Flashback

_I stood there, sniffing, wiping my saddened bangs out of my face, as the truck halted on the other side of the road. The door of the truck opened, and a tall, blue-uniformed soldier hopped out of the driver's seat and into the road. Sloshing around to the back of the articulated vehicle, he yelled to those people inside it;_

"_Right, come on, you lot! HQ says there's a blockage up ahead, so we're gonna have to walk it!"_

_Groans and complaints answered him, but he cursed and shouted at them, so, grudgingly, the passengers exited the truck, the splashes of their boots hitting the pavement lost in the downpour. The soldier slammed the doors shut behind them, and yelled at them to 'move it!' Slowly, the procession of people (who, I noticed were mainly young men, about my age, some older) began to troop up to the Shinra HQ. As they past me, some of them whispered, and all of a sudden, one stuck his hand out, and shoved me over. Catcalls and jeering filled the air as_ _I hit the ground, my flower basket rolling on the pavement. The boy who had pushed me laughed derisively. I sat in a puddle, feeling hot tears of humiliation prick at the corners of my eyes. As I tried to get back up, the young man sneered at me, and thrust me back onto the concrete. I cried out in pain. _

_Unexpectedly, out of nowhere, a hand reached out and grasped the boy's throat. Looking up, I saw an older boy, perhaps a year older than the bullying boy, squeezing the offender's neck, making him gasp and turn blue. The older boy was dressed in black trousers and a blue shirt, and he had black spiky hair, which was dripping with rainwater. Over his back, I could see the handle of a hugeweapon on his back. His deep blue eyes were narrowed in dislike for the boy he was strangling._

"_Have you no manners?" The black-haired boy said coldly, tightening his grip on the neck of my tormentor. "Do you not know to treat a lady? Apologise to her." His hold became vice-like. "Now."_

_He let go of the boy, who crumpled into the gutter, and lay on the_ _ground for a moment, choking and wheezing. I sat there staring at him in disgust._

"_S…sorry, miss." He gasped. I nodded curtly. Then a loud, livid shout rent the coldair._

"_WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"_

_The soldier, who had lead the cluster of people, had noticed the disturbance, and was yelling at the group. He picked the boy up from the gutter, and shoved him forward, while snarling at the others,_

"_Hurry it up!"_

_The group started to walk again, falling into silence, passing me without a word. Angrily, the soldier marched by to the front of the group. The black-haired boy did not move. Even when the last person had strode by, casting a questioning look at him, he shook his head, and remained there. I groaned and began to push myself back up, when suddenly,_

"_Need a hand, pretty?"_

'Pretty_?'_

_I looked up, and saw the boy was extending his hand to me. I stared at it for a moment, then put my frozen hand in his. His hand was warm and fitted comfortably around mine. He pulled me up, handed me my flower basket, and studied my face._

"_Are you alright?" He asked, looking concerned. I nodded, muttering 'Thanks', but I sneezed suddenly, and coughed. He smiled, and shook his head._

"_You'd better get home. This is no place for a little flower girl." _

"_Hey! Who are you calling little girl, little boy?" I snapped, then realised how childish it sounded, and shut my mouth._

_The boy grinned showing his white teeth, and chuckled. "I'm no little boy. I'm sixteen, and I'm in SOLDIER, First Class!" He said, throwing his chest out. I laughed, and he looked affronted. I smiled soothingly at his annoyed face, and nodded in amusement, though I don't think I believed his claim._

"_No, look," the boy protested, and reached behind his back. He grasped the handle sticking up from behind him and pulled. A massive, powerful sword appeared, sliding out from what I assumed was a leather sheath fixed to his back. I yelped and leapt backwards as he lifted the sword in front of him. _

"_Its OK!" The boy said hastily, and lowered the sword. "See? They only give cool weapons like this to us in SOLDIER!"_

_I nodded. It was true, of course. 'And it's such a beautiful sword, too.' I thought. _

"_Yeah, cool isn't it?" The boy smiled a soft, happy smile, the compliment seeming to smooth his ruffled ego. "Wanna…touch it?"_

_I blinked. "Uh…did I say that thought out loud?" The boy smirked slightly and nodded. I groaned, then suddenly registered what he had just said._

"Touch_ it? Why would I want to _touch_ it?"_

"_Oh, come on! It's so cool, try it!" He grinned eagerly at my puzzled expression through the rain. I rolled my eyes and sighed in exasperation, but stretched out my fingers anyway, and softly touched the cold metal sword…and yanked my fingers away._

"_Told ya!"_

_I gazed up into the boy's excited eyes, clutching my fingers. There was no mistaking it. I placed my hand on the sword, and felt warmth grow beneath the skin of my hand._

"_A pulse…" I whispered. The boy nodded, and positioned his hand on top of mine. Inside the sword, a warmth soft rhyme was gyrating around the metal, like the lifestream around the earth. I looked up into the boy's eyes and he grinned._

"_Who are you?" I asked him._

"_Ah, now." The boy smiled warmly, and sheathed his sword. "That's top secret, what with me being a SOLDIER. Even to a pretty girl like you, it's secret."_

"_Show off." I said, but I was smiling too. Then I sneezed again, and said teasingly; "Stop being so egotistical."_

_The boy gave a mock puppy face, and opened his mouth, when someone in the group (who were now vanishing round the corner) yelled;_

"_Oi! Zack! Stop being such a damn flirt, and hurry up!"_

_There was silence, but for the trickling of the rain running down the drainpipes of houses. I coughed, and whispered._

"_So……Zack, huh?" _

_The boy nodded, grinning sheepishly, water dripping from his spiky hair._

_Well, I'm Aeris, and I'm getting a cold, so I'm going back home." I said thickly, pinching my cold nose. The boy nodded again._

"_Maybe I'll see you again, O sweet Aeris, the flower girl." He said in a mock dramatic voice, clutching his heart, but smiling that happy smile of his. "I'll pray for that day."_

_He turned and ran, splashingaway down the street, hurrying to join his friends who were vanishing in the distance, and I was left standing in the rain. Water dripped down into my boots and my plait was coming undone, the pink ribbon sodden and unkempt. But I didn't mind. I was thinking about his last words to me. I gave a small smile and raised my eyes to the heavens, shrouded by the dark clouds of Midgar._

"_So will I, Zack." _

"_So will I."_

End flashback

* * *

Zack and I met again a few weeks later. We started dating. Zack was special to me. He made me laugh and smile. I'm not sure if I loved him; but he was like a brother to me. I loved him in that way: very much so. I wanted him to be with me; always. Then, five years ago, he left on a SOLDIER mission for a faraway place, I can't remember the name. And he never returned. Never wrote. Never contacted me. Never saw me again. 

I turned the photograph over, and saw the old note attached to the back of the frame. It was a scrap of paper, with a loveheart drawn on it. My name and Zack's name were written inside it, my name in Zack's handwriting and my hand had written Zack's name. Under this I had written the word _Together_, and next to it, in Zack's loopy, wild scrawl was the word, _Forever_.

I slid off the bed, and marched over to the chest of drawers, and shoved the photo inside. _Together Forever_. What a joke. I slammed the drawer shut and strode back to the bed, and slammed the switch on my lamp to the Off setting. In the darkness, my bitterness retreated, to left anguish, and sorrow.

'_Zack. Why did you never come back to me?'

* * *

_

This has taken me ages, so please, please review. They are what keep me alive! Review!


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